The Third Coming? A.K.A.: Got Served?

Erin always told me she liked to read my blog because of the way I described things, something about my use of the English language being superb.

So I made up the second part, and she was probably drunk when she told me the first.

However, since there is no good way to return the realm of bloging I will do it this way, I’m gonna tell you all a story that actually happened to me about 3 weeks ago.

And I’m gonna write it like Hunter S. Thompson:

As I took down my final Jager Bomb from Tinks I thought about my current situation. Hot girls all around me, or was that the alcohol talking, work in a mere six hours, drinking began four hours ago and that ratio is only getting worse. Last check on the wallet was a shock to my system, turns out my last Jackson was broken up and all that was left was a scare Washington here and there which I know won’t be found till I reach in my pants the following morning. That Jager Bomb was incredible, THE DRINK I LOVE THE MOST.

It all started innocently enough, the usual poker night Wednesday with some friends and some co-workers. Then the call comes, “Tinks tonight has a good band and a drink special, meet us there at 11.” Turns out my bearded friend Louie was going to Tinks with three lady friends of mine. When I am already half in the bag and someone tells me there is cheap booze and good looking women that is good news, THE NEWS I LOVE TO HEAR THE MOST.

So that brings me here, fully in the bag now, the clock hitting 1 AM and me fresh out of money, what is a guy to do?

“Wanna go to the Bogger?” rings true to me like so many church bells to the faithful. It’s like Christmas when I hear that from Louie, for he loves this place. To me it’s just about everything I loathe in my hometown, a bunch of self-loving fucks who like to think they mean a lot more to the world than their drug-filled bodies could ever. Louie knows I feel like this, so he really wants to go. I demand a free drink for the trouble of me going to the Bog, a Red Stripe no less, ONE OF MY FAVORITE BEERS.

Upon hearing the good news a smile comes to my face like none have seen since I was told there was girls and drinks at Tinks. We exit Tinks only to see one of our ladies was not with, for Ange was missing, THE FRIEND WHO WAS NOT THERE THE MOST.

As we stood there waiting we heard these words uttered like a shot to the heart:

“You guys battle?”

(to be cont.)